


Where Loyalty Lies

by greenwillow



Series: Another Time, Perhaps [1]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, GET IT AETHELFLAED, Knife Kink, Oral Sex, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29198616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenwillow/pseuds/greenwillow
Summary: Aldhelm has been ordered to bed Aethelflaed so that her husband can divorce her, but instead of obeying he defects to her side—if she will have him. Despite her skepticism, Aethelflaed proposes a test that has more in common with his original task than Aldhelm would have expected.
Relationships: Aethelflaed Lady of Mercia/Aldhelm (The Last Kingdom), implied Aethelred/Aldhelm
Series: Another Time, Perhaps [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075304
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	Where Loyalty Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Season 3 AU. Aldflaed knife kink is as canon as Aldhelm's bowlcut and that's that on that.

It’s a more pleasant job than he’s used to being assigned, at least in theory. No veiled threats, no blood—not that he minds such work, typically, unless the target is particularly ill-advised. Those tasks are always completed to his lord’s satisfaction and in short order. This task, however…this task will require more delicacy.

The Lady of Mercia is a clever woman—more clever by half than he had realized at first—and Aldhelm knows that in navigating this situation he will need to tread carefully around both Aethelflaed and her husband.

She does not like him, he is well aware. More than that, she does not trust him. It will not make success impossible, but it would certainly make it more difficult to achieve.

“You are to bed her, Aldhelm,” Aethelred commands, as if that were as simple a request as fetching his boots. “Bed her, then I will divorce her.”

“Yes, Lord.” It is the only reply he can give in the circumstances, as he is more surprised than displeased. He has no objections ready, no alternate course he can subtly steer Aethelred towards. Aethelred moves on to speak of other things, and Aldhelm listens with half his mind still engaged in considering this unexpected assignment.

Days pass, then weeks. Aethelred nags at him occasionally, though they are both occupied with other distractions. Aldhelm continues to consider his target, plan his approach, all the while managing Aethelred’s more dangerous tendencies with the particular skill set he’s developed over the years.

Then one morning, as he surveys Lady Aethelflaed having breakfast opposite her husband, he realizes he cannot go through with his orders.

It’s not that he hasn’t settled on a manner of seduction (though, in fairness, he hasn’t). Nor is it that he objects on moral grounds. In truth, he is no longer willing to risk the safety of the realm to prove himself to his lord. Instead, he only cares to prove himself to her, even at cost of his own safety. It is shocking at first to realize, but the more he thinks on it, the more he knows his mind cannot be changed.

His shift in regard for her has occurred gradually since the time of their first meeting. He had thought her a pretty girl, obviously well-educated, but naive. And she had been. But he's been quietly astounded to realize how many of the qualities he had hoped to cultivate in Aethelred were already present in his wife. She is determined, astute, strategic. She can hold her own in battle as well as during a negotiation. The reasons she’d become more confident, more self-reliant, were not lost on him. He regrets, more than his role in enabling Aethelred, the lost time where he may have been serving the true good of Mercia. Should Aethelred have grounds to divorce her—or should he do worse, as he had threatened—Mercia would be at a loss and so, naturally, would Aldhelm.

So he makes up his mind. He will not obey his lord—he cannot. He will, instead, formally pledge his allegiance to the Lady of Mercia.

Lady Aethelflaed is surely unaware of his intent, which means he will both have to convince her of his honesty and manage Aethelred’s displeasure when he fails to do his duty. It may be the most difficult endeavor of his life—he finds himself longing for the simple brutality of the battlefield rather than this game of chance. Aethelred had been easily manipulated, it was part of his charm. Aldhelm would have no such luck with Aethelflaed.

He had traveled with the Lord of Mercia to his wife’s estate earlier in the week. Aethelred had departed that morning but Aldhelm was to stay behind, ostensibly to confer with Aethelflaed’s guard before joining his lord back in Aylesbury. Aethelred, thinking he meant to finally fulfill his task, did not question it.

Aethelflaed has avoided him so far, but Aldhelm cannot tell to what degree she was merely avoiding her husband—there was certainly no love lost between them. The instant Aethelred had gone it was as if a dark cloud had vanished. The entire household seems happier. Aldhelm himself feels a certain weight lifted from his shoulders, and the thought it may be lifted permanently someday is very nearly intoxicating.

It’s an uncommonly pleasant afternoon besides. The sun is bright despite the chill in the air, and birds sing in the courtyard as if they also share in the joy of the household. He relishes his solitude after meeting with the guard, his peace almost enough to push what is sure to be a difficult conversation from the forefront of his mind.

But when that evening he spies Aethelflaed making her way back from the stables he squares his shoulders and makes after her. He cannot put off his duty any longer.

He's considered his approach for several days now. He does not think she would respond well to a show of strength, nor to flirtation. He has settled upon a more direct approach, which, he hopes, will suffice to win her over.

She glances up when he knocks at her chambers, the fog of thought momentarily clearing as she looks him up and down.

“May I enter?”

“I thought you were meant to be speaking with my men, Lord Aldhelm.”

“We have finished, Lady. I would beg an audience with you now.”

She raises her chin to him, drawing her brows together in that particular way of hers. “And why is that?”

“I believe you may need to increase your security here, Lady,” he says, stepping into the room and closing the door softly behind him. “I do not wish to frighten you—“

“Nothing you can say, Aldhelm, could possibly do that.”

He pauses, not sure if she speaks with humor. She takes a seat at her desk, looking up at him with expectant irritation.

“I have cause to think that your husband does not have your best interests at heart.”

Aethelflaed laughs. “I thought you were bringing me information I did not already have.”

“It is more serious this time, Lady,” he says, taking a step nearer. “He intends to divorce you, and failing that, I fear he will take a more serious tack.”

“He cannot divorce me,” she replies evenly, still unbothered. “I am no common woman, and I have not been unfaithful.”

Aldhelm is aware that’s a lie, and she must know he’s aware, but of course she cannot admit to the truth, nor can he blame her for taking what happiness she’s been able to find. Still, she must know her husband’s true intent.

“He means for me to confirm evidence of your unfaithfulness, Lady.”

Aethelflaed narrows her eyes at him, head slightly cocked, and he knows that she understands.

“So that is why you have stayed behind, Lord Aldhelm. To…seduce me.”

A smile plays at her lips. He wishes she could maintain seriousness in the face of this revelation, but cannot deny her countenance is appealing even now.

“Yes, Lady. I tell you this to warn you of his plans, that is all.”

She sets down her pen, lacing her fingers together. “And why do you care to warn me? What possible reason can I have to trust you?”

“None, only my word that I have your wellbeing at heart. I know I have done little to endear myself to you, it is true. But I have come today to declare my loyalty to you. That is the reason for my warning.”

“You loyalty?” she asks, one eyebrow quirking up. Now he is sure she speaks with humor.

“Yes, Lady.”

“And when you betray me as you have my husband?”

“I have betrayed your husband since he has betrayed Mercia. He has proven with his attitude towards you that he intends to put own desires above better judgment, above the good of our land and people.”

She rises from her seat, walking to the front of the desk so that she’s within an arm’s length of him. He spies the knife at her belt and watches as she holds herself in a ready stance. She’s on guard, in control. Perhaps she does not need his aid after all…

Aethelflaed crosses her arms over her chest and surveys him with greater interest than she has in past. Something within her is inclined to trust him—not for any goodness or nobility, but rather because he is a shrewd political operator, and everything he has said so far is to be believed. Should he attempt to manipulate her, she could turn on him in an instant. He must know that, of course he does. The man, whatever his motivations, is no fool.

He stands with his hands clasped before him, head slightly bowed, eyes following her as she moves about the room. It is a posture of respect, but that is not enough to convince her of his change in loyalty. He has always been capable of presenting the front required to maintain whatever influence he has.

She wanders to where her sword lies and draws it with a casual flair, watching to see if he will flinch. He does not.

Taking a step closer, she points the blade in his direction. Still, he does not move.

“You have a capable enough tongue, Lord Aldhelm, but how am I to know that you will not use it against me?”

She’s pressed the tip of her sword just below his collarbone. He maintains his composure, eyes still fixed on her, though with one sharp movement upwards she could end his life.

“Because I have seen you use that blade, my lady, and unlike your husband, I am not foolish enough to think you will not use it on me should my behavior warrant it.”

A clever answer, to cast her disdain for Aethelred into direct contrast with her impression of Aldhelm. She cannot deny he has made a good case for himself. But there can be no assurance without an act of allegiance.

“And how will you prove that I am to trust you, Lord?”

“I will do whatever you ask of me, my lady,” he replies in a low and solemn tone.

An image forms in her mind, a way for him to pledge his faithfulness while at the same time delivering a blow to her husband, though he may never know it.

Her gaze flicks over him, and she can sense that he feels the tension between them as intensely as she does.

“And if I were to permit you one last chance to prove the strength of your vow?”

“I would make my case with the same tongue I have pledged my loyalty, Lady Aethelflaed.”

Her mouth curves into a slight smile. Perhaps she has misunderstood him. But, looking at the way he surveys her, she thinks not. They appear to be of one mind on this matter.

“Very well then,” she says, and sets aside her sword.

Aldhelm treads gently in his approach, and she maintains her calm. Once he’s within a few inches of her he stops, but she is surprised to find no trace of hesitation in his gaze, merely deference. She notices the scar that flanks his right eye and wonders if it’s the result of an injury incurred in service to her husband.

He places hands on her hips, a light touch at first, and she’s backed against the desk. Heart beating faster, she now draws her knife and places the blade at his throat. Still, he does not waver. She lowers the blade, still holding it at the ready, then he lifts her upon the desk, hands staying firmly on her waist.

As he kneels before her she finds herself wondering how often he’d proven his loyalty to her husband in this way.

With her free hand, she helps him to lift her skirts, all the while continuing to grip the handle of her knife. He makes quick work of it, his hands moving deftly until he's settled between her legs.

“Lady?”

It is one last request for permission as he looks up at her, not so much eager as determined, and she smiles as she nods her assent.

He lifts one of her knees over his shoulder, then shrugs beneath the other. The feel of his beard against her tender skin sends preliminary shivers down her spine. She leans back on the heel of one hand, still holding the knife before her, denying the desire to run her hands through his hair.

“I do pledge my loyalty to you, Lady,” he murmurs, trailing his mouth up her inner thigh, “To you and to Mercia.”

She inhales deeply, closing her eyes and rolling her head back, now gripping the knife’s handle to maintain a semblance of control as the waves of delight begin to lap higher and higher.

He attends to her most sensitive part with his fingers first, then the warmth of his mouth is on her and it draws the breath from her lungs. The pressure is light at first, a teasing sensation as he uses the tip of his tongue, then he takes cues as if he can read her inner thoughts and the pressure builds with broader strokes as he uses his fingers and tongue in tandem.

Aethelflaed arches her back and moans in pleasure, her breathing coming in short gasps, and he grips the fullness of her hips beneath her skirts as she climaxes…

She’s looking down at him with hooded eyes, and Aldhelm sees she still grips the knife, but the point is now turned away from him. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips slightly parted.

He sits back on his heels, catching his breath as he wipes a hand over his mouth.

She does not speak, but finally releases her hold on the knife and leans forward. He rises to join her and his surprise, along with a modicum of self-control, tempers his desire as their lips meet. He did not think further proof of his loyalty would be required, but he is not foolish enough to believe that this is anything more than that.

“Your tongue has done its work, Lord,” she murmurs into his ear, and pulls him closer by the waist.

He does not care to question what happens next, but instead allows himself to be swept up in the moment. She’s busying herself with his clothes…the robe comes off, then his tunic, and he’s helping to remove her robe as well.

The thought they may be interrupted occurs to Aethelflaed, but even should it happen she has no doubts as to the loyalty of her household. He does not seem concerned either, which lack of caution surprises her, until midway through a kiss he hears a noise outside the door and pauses. She presses a finger to his lips, suppressing her laughter at his sudden change in demeanor, and reassures him as she runs her hands along his body.

“With my husband gone, you have nothing to fear, Lord…if you are truly on my side.”

“I would not be so bold, Lady, were I not,” he replies.

She wonders then if it can be true, if she can trust him, if his loyalty has really changed. There is something in his eyes she has not noticed before, perhaps a vulnerability revealed to her in that moment. Or, perhaps, it is merely another facade. She will determine in time where he has placed his faith, and where she may place hers.

* * *

Aethelred greets him crudely with a question, no prelude, when he returns to Aylesbury.

“How was your romp with my wife, Aldhelm? Did she manage to satisfy you?”

“I am afraid, Lord, that she was taken ill before I was able to approach her alone.”

Aethelred rolls his eyes and exhales heavily in annoyance. “For God’s sake, Aldhelm. I should have expected a woman to have such a reaction to your presence.”

Aldhelm forces a polite smile. “My apologies, Lord.”

“You shall have to try again, and soon,” he says, with the manner of a petulant child. “I may wish to remarry, and my wife is tedious enough regardless. We will be better off without her.”

“If you wish it, I will return to Saltwic. But it is unlikely she will have recovered.”

Aethelred plays with the rings on his left hand, his face growing sour. “The woman cannot help but ruin my life.”

“An unfortunate circumstance, Lord. We can revisit the problem later. I believe for the meantime our energies may be spent elsewhere, looking to our borders and maintaining relations with Wessex—relations which, I must say, do benefit from Lady Aethelflaed remaining your wife.”

“You will remember your place, Aldhelm,” Aethelred snaps. “You will go and do as I say, not as you desire.”

“Very well, Lord. What would you have me do?”

“You will have a second chance, and return to Salwic in a week’s time. You must not fail me then, Aldhelm.”

Aldhelm nods. A week was more than enough time for him to devise another excuse, or, at the very least, a sufficient distraction.

“And do be careful not to fall under her spell, Aldhelm. She has a certain type of charm, but it can only lead to ruin and displeasure.”

That may be half true, Aldhelm thinks, but only half.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can view the graphic for this fic and reblog [here](https://aadmelioraa.tumblr.com/post/642207472887676928/3k-rated-e-canon-divergent-knife-kink-oral) if you'd like. 
> 
> In parting, if you're interested in the Aethelflaed/Aldhelm/Aethelred dynamic, you may enjoy [the spiritual sibling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492431) to this fic.


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